


Big Damn Heroes

by Alania



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Less of a ship fic and more of an insight into why that kiss felt flat, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, finnrose - Freeform, the slightest dash of Finnrey implication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alania/pseuds/Alania
Summary: Finn's perspective of the events on Crait and beyond, with respect to Rose.





	Big Damn Heroes

Smoke filled Finn’s lungs before he could register that anything was wrong. He woke up startled, dazed, and - most surprising of all - _alive_. He should be dead. He’d given up his life to give the Resistance a fighting chance, and there was no way in hell he could have survived flying straight through that machine unless there was some weird Force-related miracle going down.

(He couldn’t completely rule this out. He had no idea what the Force could or couldn’t do yet. Maybe Rey had just plucked him out of the sky and...)

It only took him a few seconds to realize that he was still in his cockpit, or what was left of it. He unhooked himself and scrambled away, assessing the sight of his broken speeder and a second one nearby. It came back to him in little flashes, tiny pinpricks that filled out the right picture.

Rose had slammed her speeder into his. Crashed it right into his side and veered him out of the line of fire, out of the way of the cannon he’d been aiming for. Rose.

_Rose._

Worry flooded his body, and suddenly he was moving, scrambling to get to her, trying to break her free of the wreckage her speeder had crumbled into now that they were both on the ground. What was she thinking, what was she _thinking_ , the Resistance was going to be destroyed all because Rose had-

He had to get her out of here. Had to pull her from the wreckage and get back to the Resistance, had to find another way to get them safe, to fight their way past the incoming forces, to figure out an _answer_ -

She looked like she was seconds away from passing out, and he couldn’t tell if her injuries were fatal yet. His heart shuddered with a fear that gripped him hard enough to make him cry. He wanted to shake her. Beg her to explain herself. But in his head, he knew her explanation wouldn’t matter. Whatever reason she could have had for stopping him would have to wait because people were about to _die_ and the First Order was seconds away from winning this war for good. He could have stopped them, he could have _stopped this_ if not for-

Rose.

His stomach churned. Distantly, he understood the words she was saying even if he couldn’t digest them. Saving what we love. What we love. Love. Him.

The ground shuddered like an earthquake under his feet and he turned his head just in time to see the destruction of the only barrier keeping the Resistance safe. Poe was in that bunker. Leia. The handful of survivors, the last of the Resistance, and he could have stopped this, he could have if not for the girl dying in his arms at that very moment. The girl determined to save his life.

She shouldn’t be leaning up. Basic first aid trauma training was screaming in the back of his mind when he noticed she was moving. He needed to force her _down_ , to keep her from moving, to stop whatever she was doing before it was too late and she drowned in her own blood-

She kissed him. Even as sick as he felt, as unhappy as he was with her actions, and as confused as these words of hers had made him, he understood that Rose had at least tried to kiss him. It was so awkward, so weak. She didn’t have the strength to be doing this. He didn’t have the experience to understand how to react.

And then she fell, and it was over. He felt relief hit him when he realized he wouldn’t have to respond to what had just happened.

But that relief, no matter how brief, would haunt him with regret for days to come.

He hauled her body all the way back to the base and left her under the care of the only people left who had any medical experience at all. He couldn’t even spare a moment to think about how bitterly low that kind of minimal care set her chance of survival. He couldn’t think about the fact that she’d saved him, kissed him, loved him, all these things that had no static meaning in his head yet. He couldn’t think about any of that, because the Resistance still needed him.

And therefore, so did she.

It was only much later, once they’d miraculously escaped the clutches of the First Order and were piled up uncomfortably together in the Millenium Falcon, that he could actually take stock of his thoughts.

And there were so many. So many awful, awful thoughts.

He stood in front of Rose’s bedside, fixed her blanket repeatedly in agitation, and tried to piece his life back together. He’d only known her for a single day - and though he knows nothing about love, he was sure that’s not how it worked. She was ready to sacrifice her life for him, but he couldn’t forget the way she’d reacted the first time she’d met him.

He was a hero. 

What a big damn hero he was now.

He resolved to make things right, when she woke up. She might have thought she felt things for him, but he knew it had to be some kind of hero worship that he honestly did not deserve. All he had to do was remind her of all the bad things he’d done, all the running away, and surely she’d realize that she’d only kissed him the way you would kiss a statue, or a plaque. An ideal. Something to stand for. That’s all.

He leaned in and brushed the curls of her ridiculous hairstyle off of her face, where it had matted and stuck to her skin with sweat and blood. The curls bounced back up immediately, and his fingers rubbed against her cheek a few more times. Just getting the blood out. She deserved to be clean.

She’d saved his life, after all.

Damn it. What could she have been _thinking_? Why would she put herself in danger just to try and save him? None of this made sense. None of it.

She didn’t make sense to him.

He pulled his thumb away from her cheek and rubbed his fingers against it. Blood and dirt flaked off where he rubbed, leaving tiny marks on the blanket. His hand turned, palm facing upward, and he stared at his fingers for a second.

Where was the sense in all of this?

His hand rose to brush against his lips, light enough to make him shiver. It was the first time he’d let himself think about what she’d done before she passed out. He’d never been kissed before. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do during it, but it certainly couldn’t have been that. His face had been scrunched up, sick and worried and tense... but most of all, confused.

He was still confused.

Rose didn’t love him. He was sure of that, even if he wasn’t sure of what love was.

But when he thought about whether he hoped or dreaded the idea of her waking up and trying to kiss him again, the answer came as a surprise even to himself. He hoped. He hoped that there was at least a little shred of something about him, and not just the overhyped adoration of an image she’d been forcefed about him, that had given her the strength to move when she shouldn’t have.

This wasn’t love. But it was something.

And just like the Resistance itself, maybe even the smallest something was all that was needed right now.

“She’ll be all right.” Rey’s voice sounded like a blanket of his very own, wrapping around his shoulders. She’d finished speaking to Leia and had decided to come to him, since he hadn’t moved since they’d arrived. “I can tell by her heartbeat. She’s _strong_.”

Finn turned his head up to look at Rey, and his heart flipped with a familiar feeling. Rey always managed to do that to him. He’d never understood it before.

Now he was starting to get a clearer picture of it all.

“Her name’s Rose.” He answered a question Rey hadn’t needed to ask and turned back to look at her. His hand slipped just under Rose’s fingers to grasp hers gently. Just a little more understanding hit him with each moment that passed, as he recognized the way he always looked at Rey, in the eyes of Rose just before she’d passed out. This was not love. This was something better.

“She saved me.”

He squeezed Rose’s hand, and Rey sat down nearby, her eyes now locked on the girl as well. There was something in her gaze, too. Gratitude, he thought. Maybe a little bit of awe.

The last great Force user was staring down at Rose’s unconscious body with awe, Finn mused. And you know what? She deserved it.

“Then she’s my hero,” Rey hummed decisively with a nod. 

Finn smiled, soft and proud, and fixed Rose’s blanket one more time before he whispered his response.

“Yeah. Mine, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So funny story, I'm not really interested in the Finnrose ship! But the truth is every time I see that kiss it really intrigues me how much John Boyega, one of the greatest actors of our time, decided to play it like Finn was completely not into it. And there had to be a reason why, so I decided to explore it a little. Because Rose is a sweetheart and I was already in love with Finn so I love getting into his head.
> 
> Hope I did it some justice.


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